Between the Vines by Tricia Stringer Page A

“With a touch of minerality.” Whateverthat meant. “And flavours of lemon sherbet and granny smith apple, a hint of chalkiness…”
    The men looked at her expectantly.
    â€œFrames the end.” Taylor hoped her smile would cover up any jumbled words.
    They picked up their glasses. While the tall man was all about sniffing and sipping and spitting into the barrel designed as a spittoon, the two Chinese men simply swallowed the wine and sat their glasses back on the bar. They both smiled and nodded at her.
    She reached for the next white, skimmed a look over the notes and poured.
    â€œOur sauvignon blanc grapes come from the cooler, maritime climate at Mount Benson. This wine was produced after a cold winter and a mild spring which produces the best sauvignon blanc.” She paused. Once more the tall man was sticking his nose in the glass while the other two simply smiled and swallowed. “Er, you might notice, er–” she glanced down, “–melon, passionfruit and gooseberry…it’s clean and crisp with a bright zippy finish.” The last words came out in a rush as the two Chinese men placed their glasses on the bar and smiled.
    Where was Peter? She felt so out of her depth. The chardonnay was next and then the sparkling shiraz. She worked her way through the wine list, providing a more and more garbled rendition of the tasting notes. By the end she was making it up. At least Mr Zhu couldn’t understand her and Mr Cheng’s English was a little stilted, but she had noticed the other man raise his eyebrows once or twice when she’d stumbled over her words.
    By the time they had tried the shiraz and the cabernet sauvignon, Mr Zhu and Mr Cheng were very merry and tall guy very serious.
    â€œCan’t you call Mr Starr?” he asked her. “I have to drive Mr Zhu back to Melbourne tonight.”
    â€œTonight?” That would explain the spitting.
    â€œIt’s a five-hour trip.”
    Taylor looked around. Did she leave them here and walk up tothe sheds looking for Peter? There was one more bottle of red sitting beside those already tasted. It had a different label and was a cabernet reserve, whatever that meant. Perhaps something special. She hoped so as she picked it up.
    â€œOne more to taste,” she said. She flipped over the tasting notes. Nothing mentioned a reserve wine. This one had a cork instead of a screw cap. After some difficulty she tugged the cork from the bottle and poured. This time she noticed tall guy swallow instead of spit, although he didn’t down his glass as quickly as the other two.
    â€œI’ll take a dozen of these,” he said when he finished savouring the wine. “How much will that be?”
    Taylor’s mind went into a spin. “Excuse me a minute,” she said. “I’m only new here.” She sifted through all the tasting notes and lists she could find but nothing mentioned a reserve cabernet sauvignon. She found a box of them under the bar. There was one missing, no doubt the bottle she’d just opened. “I’ve only got eleven,” she said, lifting the box to the bar.
    Tall guy had his card out of his wallet. “That’s fine. How much?”
    Taylor did a quick calculation. The other cabernet sauvignon on the list was thirty dollars a bottle. Perhaps reserve meant special. If that was the case should she double it? She looked up at the man who was looking down his nose at her. He hadn’t been that polite. What did she care if he bought the wine or not?
    â€œIt’s usually ninety dollars a bottle,” she said, “but as I only have eleven I can take ten dollars off the total.”
    He didn’t even blink. “Done.”
    Damn, Taylor thought, I should have asked for more. She hoped she was doing the right thing as she processed his credit card. Without Peter to help her she just had to make it up.
    â€œI’ll put these in the car,” the